No, not that kind of confession! A book related one… Every couple of years or so I find that my tastes in fantasy literature suddenly take a nose dive. I don't want Machiavellian plots in various shades of grey. I don't want the person who I think is the hero to die within the first hundred pages and I certainly don't want a villain who turns out to be all vulnerable and ultimately heroic!
No, what I'm after is far more simple. I don't want to have to think about what I'm reading or grapple with a cast of thousands, I'm after being spoon fed with fantasy mush. You know what I mean, the kind of book you read when you've got the flu or with a big bowl of ice cream. You know it's rubbish but you end up reading it anyway. Yes, I'm talking about guilty pleasures.
Mine is David Eddings' 'Belgariad', a series where 'prophecy' is the ultimate deus ex machina and sits alongside every single cliché you can think of (I haven't found a dragon yet but I'm sure there's one hidden away somewhere). I know it's rubbish, even while I'm reading it for the hundredth time, but I just can't help myself and I know that I'll be reading them again (you'll be pleased to hear that the same cannot be said for the 'Mallorean'!). It's comfort reading, pure and simple. Every now and then I want to read a book where I just know that the ending will be a happy one, I reckon you're the same too.
Now you know my 'guilty secret', how about yours? Which book is it that you settle down with when it's grey and horrible outside (even though you know you've got at least ten better reads sitting on the shelf)? Which book is that you'll quite happily mock but somehow never seems to find it's way from your bookshelf to the charity shop?
Don't be shy, fess' up! ;o)